


a sense of polarity

by badappple



Series: ShuAke Week 2020 Fics [5]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Homoeroticism, Inner Dialogue, Internal Conflict, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Self-Hatred, Touch-Starved Akechi Goro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27649460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badappple/pseuds/badappple
Summary: Akechi Goro is nothing, nothing like Kurusu Akira.From the second he shook that boy’s hand, he knew. He will never be anything like him. Never. He is nothing like Kurusu Akira. A foolish idiot with stupid hair and an even stupider sense of justice. He’s so, so much better than anything this boy will ever be.[The two are perfect opposites, the perfect antithesis.]
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: ShuAke Week 2020 Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016671
Comments: 1
Kudos: 85





	a sense of polarity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ShuAke Week 2020, Day Five: Opposites, Home and ~~Outfits~~
> 
> happy murder your crush day everyone

Akechi Goro is nothing, _nothing_ like Kurusu Akira. 

From the second he shook that boy’s hand, he knew. He will never be anything like him. Never. He is nothing like Kurusu Akira. A foolish idiot with stupid hair and an even stupider sense of justice. He’s so, so much better than anything this boy will ever be. 

He’s also careless and sloppy. Akechi saw this boy in Madarame’s Palace, gallivanting around like he was something out of a movie. This boy was a careless, mindless do-gooder.

Akechi is nothing like him. Nothing. 

_he goes home after that shoot and he tries not to think about that frizzy-haired boy. he tries not to think about the way he felt when he shook his hand._

* * *

Akechi Goro can’t help but invite him out. Kurusu is an interesting one to talk to, even with Akechi’s disagreements with his morals. What’s the harm of having some fun in between your hits, right? That’s all Kurusu was. A way to kill the time before the inevitable. Standing outside Kichijoji wasn’t the best way to spend an afternoon. 

_he knows that’s not all there is to it, even now._

“It’s nice to see you again, detective.” He speaks casually. Like Goro is his fucking _friend_ or something. It’s disgusting. 

_he doesn’t know why the way akira says those words makes him feel so many things at once. he tries not to think about any of those things. it doesn’t work._

“It’s nice to see you as well.” Akechi flashes his television grin. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but… since you’re already here, do you fancy a game of billiards? It’s a simple game, and we can chat while we play.” 

“Of course. I should warn you, I’m an expert.” Kurusu jokes, and it makes Akechi’s blood run a bit colder. Akechi is the expert here. Akira isn’t anything close to an expert, merely judging by his demeanor.

_he’s nothing like akira he’s not he’s not he’s not he’s not_

Yet Akechi doesn’t know why he smiles even more when Kurusu tells him that he’ll play. He doesn’t know why he’s so engaged in winning. He knows he’ll win. Kurusu is an ametuer, the way he holds the cue is the mark of inexperience. It’s a bit gauche to go all out against someone younger than him, but he can’t find it in himself to care. 

Akechi wins. Easily. It makes him feel better than he should. Strangely, Kurusu doesn’t seem to mind.

“You used your right hand.” 

He chuckled. “I’m honestly surprised you noticed. That’s right, this one’s actually my dominant hand.” The laugh came easier this time. He can’t put his finger on why. “You surprised me.” 

Kurusu pushes up his glasses in a manner that Akechi can only assume is a joke. “Maybe I’ll become a detective.” 

...akechi prays that kurusu doesn't notice the way his smile seems a bit more thickly caked on now. 

_don’t act Iike we’re similar._

_don’t act like you hate the way he talks to you._

“Perhaps. Having a partner would be interesting.” Akechi is going to kick himself for that comment. He is nothing like Kurusu. He just won, didn’t he? The words leave his mouth before he realizes. 

Akechi knows he needs to leave, though he can’t bring himself to do so. Despite everything he feels, Kurusu is so undeniably interesting that he can’t help but stick around and bask in the boy’s company. 

_he’s enjoying himself._

_didn’t you say you were just doing this to pass the time?_

It’s night by the time Akira finally has to leave. Akechi’s not sure where the time went, and he’s not sure if he particularly hates that he spent his night this way. He hates that he doesn’t hate it, as stupid as that is. 

What he knows he hates, is this stupid, wholly undeniable connection that his traitorous heart is already feeling towards this boy. He wants to tear his heart out. He goes home before he burns Penguin Sniper down with the power of spite alone. 

‘Home’ isn’t the right word to use. ‘Home’ for Akechi Goro is a shitty cramped apartment that’s devoid of anything that can be called life. It doesn’t even feel like anyone lives here. He tosses his jacket onto the ugly blue couch in his tiny living room, and tosses himself onto his bed. He has another meeting with Shido tomorrow. He’s certainly looking forward to that.

_he tries not to think about akira as he falls asleep._

* * *

The cycle continues. A cafe, Penguin Sniper, hell itself- It doesn’t matter where he goes. He’s always filled with hatred every time he sees Kurusu’s face and self-loathing every time he leaves. 

_hatred certainly is an odd way of putting it._

He will never understand why, but he invites Akira to the Jazz Jin. His safe haven. A place he loves. A place that’s more like a home to him than where he actually lives. 

_he knows exactly why he brought akira here._

They talk idly- and Akechi’s enjoying himself, much to his own chagrin. He feels so open with Kurusu. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t. He thinks he never will. 

Kurusu has a place like the Jazz Jin too. Another perfect fucking similarity. Akechi wants to scream, but he doesn’t. He just asks what it is. And, again, he’s not sure why. 

“I live there, actually.” 

The second Kurusu mentions the cafe he lives at, Goro is filled with the urge to visit it. 

“You’d have to take me there sometime.” 

And to his surprise, Akira agrees. Almost like he wants Akechi there, in his own home. 

_impossible. of course he doesn’t._

* * *

He goes there anyway, despite his own internal protesting. The first time he visits Leblanc, he can’t stop himself. The words tumble out of his mouth, the story of a woman marred by the birth of her own son and the bastard child who killed his own mother. Kurusu has the fucking gall to look sympathetic, like he understands. 

_he’s a lot more like akira than he thinks. he doesn’t want to think about it. he still does._

There’s a familiar-seeming girl standing beside Kurusu, but he doesn’t care about her. Nobody in this world is like Kurusu. Nobody in this world is worth Akechi’s time like Kurusu is. Nobody could ever be as interesting as Kurusu, as perfect as Kurusu. 

“...I’m sorry,” Goro says, suddenly. “I shouldn’t have said any of that. I should go.” 

Kurusu grabs his wrist from across the counter. “It’s okay. Please, stay.” 

Akechi isn’t sure why the touch on his skin feels so nice. It’s so warm, almost affectionate. Kurusu is looking at him with such worry and concern and Akechi thinks he might just collapse, right here. 

“Kurusu-Kun…” his voice was a whisper as he looked back at the bespectacled boy. 

_he can’t do this. he can’t stay. he’s nothing like akira he’s nothing like him at all he’s better he’s so much better if he’s so much better why does he feel so inferior in this moment_

Akechi is out the door before he can have any second thoughts. 

* * *

Kurusu’s texts are incessant. Constantly reaching out to Akechi, always asking if he’s okay or if he’s free. (And he’s neither of those and hasn’t been either of them for years. He doesn’t tell Kurusu this.) 

Akechi hasn’t seen him since the day he ran out of Leblanc. He knows he can’t face Kurusu after that. He’s not even sure why he ran out- and he’s thought about the feeling of Akira’s touch on his skin more times than he’d ever like to admit to anyone. 

He knows he shouldn’t- no, cannot show his face there again. He’s said so much about everything. He’s not sure what it is about Kurusu that makes him want to spill everything. Maybe it’s that kind look in his eyes when Akechi talks about his mother. 

Maybe it’s the gentle tone Akira uses, so much more real than anything Akechi has experienced for years. 

_maybe it’s the warmth he feels whenever he steps into the cafe, a real, caring warmth that he hasn’t felt since his mother died. maybe it’s the-_

Akechi finds himself standing at the entrance to Cafe Leblanc before he even knows it. Kurusu isn’t even there when he steps inside.

Oh, well. He needs a coffee anyway, and the atmosphere at Leblanc is so nice that he doesn’t mind just sitting and basking in it. He feels welcome there in a way that nowhere else can compare to, even the Jazz Jin. It’s so strange.

He turns to the door once he hears it opening. He’s not sure why he smiles once he sees Kurusu walk inside. 

“Welcome home, Kurusu-Kun. I hope you don’t mind that I’m intruding on your home again. I expect we’ve both had a long day.” 

To his surprise, Kurusu shakes his head. “It’s fine. I like seeing you here, detective. It’s been a while.” Akechi feels his face heating up from the smile Akira gives him. 

“Aha, really? You’re always full of surprises… Perhaps we can talk over some of Boss’s coffee.” 

The gruff man behind the counter clears his throat. “Not that I’m complaining, but if you two are so tired, maybe you could use a bath. I mean, there’s a bathhouse right there.” 

Silently, he thanks Sojiro, but he’s not sure why. “A bathhouse? That doesn’t sound too bad.” He can already feel the nostalgia bubbling up in his chest. It’s almost like he can hear her voice, telling him to run down to the bathhouse, telling Goro that he can come home soon. 

Kurusu says yes. Akechi’s smile grows.

* * *

“I used to frequent one of these when I was younger.” And it’s all downhill from there. 

He can’t stop the words from spilling out. Kurusu doesn’t even try to stop him, only looks at him with that same sympathetic look that makes Goro want to smash his face into the tile. He talks about his mother, the hours he's spent in a place just like this. He talks about his father as vaguely as he can, talks about how much he hates the man with every fiber of his being. 

“...It seems I’ve done it again, ahah..” he doesn’t even need to lie to make his laugh sound awkward. He did that all on his own. “Please, just forget it.” 

Akechi feels someone taking his hand underneath the water. 

“I know how you feel.” 

Kurusu’s blunt response makes him do a double-take. He understands. Kurusu Akira spins a tale of a false arrest and prejudice and hatred, and Akechi is speechless by the end of it.

_so much for not being similar, hm?_

“...I don’t know what to say.” It’s one of the most truthful things Akechi has said in a while. “...it appears that we’re much more alike than I would’ve ever imagined.” 

The boy sitting in the water beside him only laughs and says that he agrees. 

Akechi Goro leaves the bathhouse that night happier than he’s been in a decade. 

* * *

Going home is still not much better- it’s still shitty and cramped and too small and lifeless-, but he feels different as he steps into his apartment. Lighter. There’s a dim glow within his chest that he’s never felt before. 

It’s inexplicable, but for once, he doesn’t mind. 

When he thinks of Kurusu- no, _Akira,_ he’s smiling. 

He can’t help but think of Akira’s touch on his skin as he drifts off to sleep. 

* * *

When he wakes up, he thinks about Akira. When he’s brushing his teeth, he thinks about Akira.

When he’s on the train to work, he thinks about Akira. 

_Akira, Akira, Akira._

During his downtime at his mind-numbingly boring day job, he feels himself blushing as he wistfully thinks about frizzy black hair and geeky glasses hiding gunmetal gray eyes framed with beautifully long eyelashes and a cheeky expression that Akechi hates to love and he thinks about a boy standing behind the counter and smiling and talking to Goro like he’s a person and not just a tool and he thinks about

Oh. 

_oh._

_he knows what this means._

He feels dizzy, suddenly. His face still feels hot for so many reasons and he can’t place any of them. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest when he places a hand over it. 

_it seems that the thief has already stolen yours._

He tells Niijima Sae that he’s sick- his face is so red, he already looks feverish- and he goes home. 

* * *

Akira isn't back from school yet when Akechi arrives at Leblanc, but he doesn’t care. His heart is still hammering against his ribcage, his skin still feels electric and alive where Akira touched him. 

Sojiro shoots him a look, and Akechi understands why. He must look like a flustered mess, all jittery and blushing. Akechi meekly asks for a coffee and prays that it helps. 

The door opens. 

“O-oh! Akira-Kun, it’s nice to see you,” he grins without even thinking about it. His heart is beating faster than he ever thought possible. 

“Fancy seeing you here, Akechi.” Akira returns his smile and takes his place behind the counter. “You have a day off work today?” He talks to Akechi like he’s known him for years.

“Something like that, I suppose… when you’re finished with your shift, do you fancy a game of chess?”

“You’ll have to wait some time, though.” Despite that, Akira nods, and Akechi just about melts. 

* * *

Akechi places his queen forward on the board, merely one move away from checkmate. Akira’s next move is quite good- his knight could easily capture Akechi’s king in one more move-, but it’s clear that he didn’t plan ahead enough.

As he’s about to end this match, his phone starts ringing. He knows who it is. His heart drops. “Forgive me. I should take this.” 

He’s out the door before Akira can even say anything else. 

* * *

He’s replaying the words in his head, trying to make sense of them. 

Kill him. 

Kill the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Kill _Akira_. Put a bullet in his skull and lie. Kill him and be done with it. Kill him and never think about him again for the rest of his life and try to live with it. 

“...Very well, Shido-San.” It felt like the words weren’t even coming from him, detached and lifeless and obedient in a way that Akechi is not. “I can take care of it by then.” 

He doesn’t even bother saying goodbye to Akira. He goes back to his real home, lifeless and empty, leaving Akira to wonder what had just occurred.

* * *

As soon as he opens the door, he rushes into the bathroom and spews up his lunch into the toilet. He holds onto the porcelain like a lifeline as more scalding-hot bile leaves his throat, gasping and shuddering. 

Akechi has to kill him. He doesn’t have a choice. There is nothing more to say. Conversation over. Chapter ended. Life support pulled. The end. 

He’s shaking when he stands up and looks in the mirror. He sees Kurusu in his own eyes, world-weary but fiery and determined.

He sees the face of the boy he’s going to murder, the same face of the same boy that he loves.

He throws his head back and _laughs._

* * *

_akechi just can’t stay away. here he is, with akira again, smiling at this boy like he isn’t planning on putting a bullet in his brain._

“You can’t simply strike the ball you're aiming for. You have to be indirect, but precise, to land it in the pocket.” 

_Please understand._

“You eliminate your target without ever directly connecting yourself to it. I don’t suppose that rings any bells? It’s a bit like the perfect crime.” 

_please understand._

“...There’s no guarantee that the ball can be precisely controlled.” 

_please, you have to fucking understand. you have to get it. please._

“Even then… do you still intend to play this game?” 

Akira wins. Akechi can’t even be upset anymore. 

The night is cold against his skin. 

“Remember what I said before, that you and I are similar?” 

Akira acts like they’re teammates. Akechi wants to die. 

“Why not join me instead…? All you’d have to do is abandon the teammates you have now.” 

“ _You’re my rival_.” 

Akira never understands. 

* * *

He just can’t stay away. Akechi is heading back home to Leblanc, and he’s going to say everything. He’s going to stand in the doorway and confess his plan, because he can’t do it, he can’t go through with it. 

He cannot kill Kurusu Akira. He just can’t. The mere idea is sickening, and he hates himself for it.

As he approaches, he hears something. Sees something.

It’s Akira. He’s laughing, having fun, enjoying himself with that ginger-haired girl and the gruff man who owns the place. They’re all having fun, now that he’s looking closer through the window. 

They all look like a family. It looks foreign, new to Akechi. Akira fits in here perfectly, like he belongs in this homely cafe. 

He feels his heart corroding. 

Akira looks free in every way that Akechi is not. Happy. He looks like he had a choice and he made the right one. 

Akechi was so, so stupid. So blind. 

_I am your antithesis. Your opposite. I am nothing like you. Nothing._

_nothing._

Akira will never be anything like Akechi, and he’ll die realizing that. 

* * *

Akechi goes home and destroys the tiny apartment. He can’t be bothered to clean it up. For the first time in months, he doesn’t think about Akira as he drifts off. 

* * *

Akechi challenges Kurusu to a duel. He loses. 

He doesn’t understand how. He’s better. Akira is pathetic. 

“I hate you,” Akechi tells him, and he can’t remember if he means it or not. 

They make a promise that Kurusu won’t be alive long enough to keep. 

* * *

It’s the twentieth of November. Kurusu Akira won’t be living past this day. 

Akechi feels numb. He feels nothing. Even as Kurusu gets arrested and captured and taken away like he’s a violent murderer, there is nothing to be felt. 

Adrenaline buzzes in his veins, but it’s more of a far cry than a buzz. 

He is the perfect opposite. The picturesque antithesis. 

He is the victor. As he walks down the hallways, hand already heavy with a gun he doesn’t have yet, nothing but revenge fills his head.

Kurusu Akira, Shido Masayoshi- nothing, both of them. Akechi has beaten them both. 

He walks past Niijima Sae and her odd cell phone, and he laughs once she’s out of sight. What a fool. 

“May I ask that you accompany me? Going on unarmed to interrogate a murderer does make me a little uncomfortable…” What a load of bullshit. 

Taking the gun from the guard is easy. Pulling the trigger on the man is even easier. 

There is nothing on Kurusu’s face. He might as well be a corpse already with how dead he looks. 

Akechi tugs on his gloves. “Have you finally pieced it all together?” 

Kurusu says nothing. Anger flares up within Goro’s chest. 

“...Say something, damn it.” He murmured, voice simmering with rage as he narrowed his eyes at the drugged and beaten boy that sat across from him. 

Nothing. Silence. 

Akechi slams his hands on the table. Kurusu doesn’t even flinch. 

“DAMN IT, WHY WON’T YOU FUCKING SAY ANYTHING!” 

Not even so much as a blink. 

It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters but Akechi’s victory. He is nothing like Kurusu Akira. 

_nothing._

“Case closed. This is where your justice ends.” 

Kurusu Akira paints the walls red. Akechi can’t help but smile as he puts the gun in the dead boy’s hand. 

The scene is beautiful. Red really is Kurusu’s color.

He spares one last glance to Akira, slumped over the table and trickling crimson like a faucet. 

His smile grows. It’s unhinged and grotesque and he wishes Kurusu could see it. 

“I am nothing like you. I’m better.” 

**Author's Note:**

> twt is @badappplle . warning for potential 18+ content.  
> this one was kinda rushed but i like it or whateva....


End file.
